


Astra inclinant, sed non obligant

by fourstrings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourstrings/pseuds/fourstrings
Summary: For day 4 of Ignis Fluff Week - Canon? What Canon?  and the prompt "Fix the Ending". Noctis and Luna discover the power of their magic combined, and things turn out differently.





	Astra inclinant, sed non obligant

This is how it happens:

 

Ravus Nox Fleuret considers the promises that have been made, and chooses his sister. He pulls strings, makes arrangements, and outright threatens until the Prince of Lucis arrives in Altissia and is escorted into a meeting not with Secretary Claustra, but with Lunafreya herself.

 

Everybody in the room feels it. The moment the pair clasp into an embrace – not that of two people betrothed against their will but of dear friends, long separated but always united in their common desire for freedom, for peace – it's as if all the air leaves the room for a moment only to return sizzling with electricity, powerful and terrifying but invigorating. Once those present have regained the ability to speak rather than to goggle in amazement, everything is action. Research, planning, what hopelessly inadequate tests they can perform. It's a bold and reckless plan, far too slim a hope to hang everything on, but that's what they do.

 

When the Chancellor strides across the platform towards two bodies, dark cradled against light, he is close enough for the Oracle to feel his breath on her face before she says “Noctis, _now._ ” As one they reach to grip the hands of the Chancellor, and with the force of their magic united in common purpose there is no need to chant. It is not the blessed stars that do their work here, but the Oracle and the Chosen King. Ardyn roars in fury, curses them both, and eventually weeps as the curse that has held him together for two thousand years by magic and hate leaves his soul.

 

“I know,” says Noctis, still holding fast to Ardyn's hand, “and I'm sorry. You can rest now.”

 

Ardyn Lucis Caelum dies with tears on his cheeks and the smallest of smiles on his face.

 

-

 

There is barely time to clean up before the address, but it's best if the Oracle and the Chosen King are not soaked in seawater, bruised and bedraggled in torn clothes as they face their people. It also allows time for some not-entirely-legal boosting of broadcast systems and the preparations for recordings that will be sent out as far as they can manage. When they step up to the podium, Lunafreya in a white gown that she wears like battle armour and Noctis in his dark suit, their fellows line up behind them in a show of support. Ignis, Gladio and Prompto stand not side-by-side but spaced between Ravus, Gentiana, and a man and woman who are tall, regal, and imposing in a way that makes Ignis hope they never find out how strongly he's reminded of dogs when he looks at them.

 

Lunafreya's speech is brief but compelling. She speaks of the power of unity and hope, and the people cheer and cry her name. And then, to Ignis' utter surprise, Noctis steps forward.

 

“Hate and greed have threatened us for too long,” he says. “We're not scared anymore. We're taking it all back. Starting _now._ ” The gathered people of Altissia fairly scream their support, but Ignis barely hears it through the force of his pride, his unspoken love for the boy who stands in front of him now truly a man. A king.

 

Afterwards, gathered in the estate, Ravus spoils the mood by attempting to take his leave.

 

“I was a tool of the Empire,” he says. “You cannot hope to keep the love of the people with me at your side.”

 

“Sit _down,_ ” Luna replies, and Ignis feels slightly better about the way his knees seem to want to buckle in obedience when from the corner of his eye he catches Prompto actually dropping to a cross-legged seat on the floor. “You are my only living family. You are my brother, and I love you. I will not be robbed of that so you can slink off to feel sorry for yourself. You'll do your penance by helping set things right.”

 

“Yeah,” Noctis adds. “Quit being a dick. We just broke a prophecy, we've earned the right to get what we want.” His eyes cut to the side, to Ignis, and Ignis feels a pull looking into them. Intense, drowning blue, like the ocean at its deepest. _Oh,_ he thinks.

 

The gathering doesn't have much of a celebration feel after that, and Noctis soon declares his intention of retiring to bed. He grabs Ignis by the wrist and leads him out of the room, fast enough that they're halfway out the door when Prompto squeaks “Dude!” and then slips into muffled sounds that Ignis is fairly sure is what happens when you try to continue speaking with one of Gladiolus Amicitia's gigantic hands clamped over your mouth. Noctis leads him to his borrowed room – a suite, really, befitting of visiting royalty – waves his hand in a gesture that Ignis knows is an instruction to shut the door, and strips down to his underwear before collapsing into bed and patting the space beside him. Ignis feels as though the floor has dropped out from under his feet, but not in an altogether unpleasant way.

 

“Highness?”

 

“Shh. Too tired. We'll talk in the morning. I just wanna sleep. But with you here, okay?”

 

He manages to sound both like he genuinely means it as a question, checking that Ignis does in fact think that it's _okay,_ and like he's completely confident in the answer. So Ignis follows suit, and Noctis rests his head on his shoulder and falls into a deep and well-earned slumber.

 

Ignis sleeps pleasurably late, but it's still long enough before Noctis yawns and slits open those beautiful eyes for Ignis to have lost track of just how much time he's spent gazing at his prince's face. Noctis blinks slowly at him, then smiles in what seems like genuine surprise.

 

“Halfway figured you'd decide this wasn't _proper_ and bail on me in the night,” he says.

 

There are a lot of ways Ignis could respond. The first, of course, is to acknowledge that it is _incredibly_ improper. Or he could confess his love, the way the spark of devotion that had formed within him when they were first introduced has grown and blossomed into a consuming adoration as he watched Noctis grow into the man he is today. He considers, and settles on:

 

“How long?”

 

“Dunno. Forever, maybe? I only figured out you feel the same way after we left home.” And then there's a pause, a small crinkle of worry between Noct's brows as he pulls back slightly and asks, “You _do,_ right?”, so Ignis does the only thing he considers appropriate, and kisses him.

 

They miss breakfast. When they finally make it down for lunch Noctis wordlessly meets Prompto's offered fistbump, and Gladio says “huh,” before smirking so much that Ignis kicks him under the table.

 

-

 

With the Chancellor gone, they'll never know exactly how much of Niflheim's power was his doing. Things fall apart quickly enough that Ignis concludes it must have been a fair amount. There are unpleasant discoveries about how the Empire came by so vast an army, something that shocks the people of Niflheim into action; there are mass defections, a resistance, and eventually a revolution. There are those in Lucis who find this an unsatisfying resolution, feeling they've been robbed of their revenge. Not Ignis; they've lost too many of their own for him to ever feel that another bloody conflict would have been worth further losses, and a nation that fought for their own freedom is far more likely to cling to their new values than if they'd been “liberated” by outsiders.

 

Besides, Lucis has quite enough to be getting on with. There's rebuilding, filling the seats of government left vacant by the deaths in the attack – and of course, the coronation of their new king. It's never been a secret that Noctis does not particularly want to rule and Ignis half expects him to take this opportunity to make Lucis a republic, but when he carefully asks about it Noctis just shrugs.

 

“Everybody's been through so much,” he says. “I don't want them to feel like I'm ditching them.” He's more formal about it in the interviews he forces himself to give, battling down his nerves to thank the people for everything they've done, how hard they fought, the efforts they're pouring into reconstruction and the newfound peace. Ignis couldn't be prouder, and when the inevitable questions come about whether there's still to be a wedding between himself and the newly-crowned queen of Tenebrae, Noctis lets those hoping to celebrate a royal wedding down gently. “That was the Empire's idea,” he says. “Luna's great, but-” (Ignis holds his breath in momentary terror of their new King dropping a clanger on national television) “-we're choosing our own symbols of hope.”

 

Noct's hopes that the coronation will be a small and private affair are utterly dashed. He is embarrassed by the pomp and more so by the public outpouring of love and support for him, but Ignis makes sure that he can always come home to at least one place where he can set it aside. At night, when it's just the two of them, Ignis takes his King into his arms and reminds him that sometimes it's alright for the King of Light to just be Noctis, picking the vegetables out of his meals and falling asleep against Ignis while they watch a movie, or grasping at the bedsheets as Ignis breathes his name into the crook of his neck. And in the mornings, he puts his foot down about toaster pastries being an unsuitable breakfast _even if_ the king says otherwise. So much has changed, but occasionally it feels as if nothing has changed at all.

 

-

 

There is, eventually, a royal wedding. Ignis is... pleasantly surprised at how well the announcement is taken, especially given that Noctis broke the news of their relationship with his typical diplomatic flair – by unthinkingly mentioning it in an interview, responding with an only moderately defensive “what?” when questioned about it. Ignis declines to be interviewed on the subject, pleading privacy, but he finds that being photographed in the act doesn't remotely diminish the pleasure of being able to hold Noct's hand in public or sit as close as he likes at dinner.

 

In the end, they cheat a little. There is an official wedding planned with foreign dignitaries to attend and a public procession. What very few people know it that by this stage the King has been married for a month, in a ceremony performed by Luna with only those closest to them in attendance. Prompto is instructed to keep the pictures he can't resist taking strictly private, a warning that turns out to be almost unnecessary; he's crying throughout and very few of them are remotely in focus. It's certainly not the noblest thing for a king to wed in secret, but it feels right to have something just for them – something close and personal, where Ignis doesn't have to worry about everything going smoothly or whether Noctis is hating the whole affair. It makes him more relaxed when they come to the official event, more capable of soothing Noctis when he finds him sitting on a bench in his wedding finery, folding and unfolding a slip of paper that presumably holds his vows.

 

“My husband looks worried,” Ignis says, and takes a seat beside him.

 

“All those people,” Noct huffs, and leans his head against Ignis' shoulder. “Do we really have to do this?”

 

“No. It _will_ likely only garner more attention if we don't, but I promise not to give any interviews about how you left me at the altar.” It's supposed to be a joke but Noctis groans, and Ignis lifts a hand to stroke his hair. “It's not too late to call the whole thing off, if that's what you want.”

 

“Nah.” Noctis turns his face, nuzzles against Ignis' shoulder for a moment before he looks up, his expression soft. “I love you. I want everyone to know.”

 

“And I you,” Ignis says, and kisses him. They're still like that, pressed close, fingers in one another's hair when Gladio stalks around the corner in his suit and makes a snorting noise that's _probably_ a laugh.

 

“Alright, break it up, lovebirds. You're gonna be late, and I'm not gonna save you from Luna if you screw this up.”

 

“Some shield,” Noctis grumbles, but Gladio is already making his way back and merely flips him off cheerfully as he goes. Ignis stands, smiling, and extends his hand for Noctis to take.

 

“You're sure?”

 

“I'll live. You got my back?”

 

And as Noctis lurches up off the bench, lacing their fingers together, Ignis can't help leaning in for just _one more_ quick kiss before they head of to the rest of their lives together. As lovers, friends, husbands, the king and his Prince Consort, but always together.

 

“Always.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to Lynn for her indispensable advice regarding fades to black; namely, "AND THEN THEY DONE SEX".


End file.
